


Love is a Curious Thing

by Totally_not_a_Weeb



Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon Lesbian Character, Catholic Character, Coming Out, Doesn't go well, F/F, High School, Homophobic Language, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Merciless Criticism wanted and encouraged, Might add more chapters, POV Third Person Limited, Sectarianism ahead, Useless Lesbians, i guess, i should be studying, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 10:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11378172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_not_a_Weeb/pseuds/Totally_not_a_Weeb
Summary: Kind of reworked the story. Both Characters are in high school around about exam time. I am fucking begging you to comment, I don't care if you rip me a new asshole, just please let me now that you're reading and caring enough.





	1. The First Step

Love has always been such a strange and comforting feeling that could affect anyone, and it made someone experience the world in a different way, compliments wouldn’t matter all that much a person’s words might not register, someone’s habit might make you want to massage their throat, a conversation between two people wouldn’t be all that important and you might enjoy time with yourself and your thoughts, but then that one person steps in, whether it is as subtle as a single drop of rain on a sunny day, or as blatant and pronounced as a marching band on the 12th of July, the room just lights up, the world gets just a bit more pleasant, life seems more smooth, whatever problems you have fade away, the words spoken by that person are more precious than the brightest gems and sound better than the greatest symphony, their compliments or insults are like a mandate from heaven about you, you loathe the thought of being alone with your thoughts as they would confuse and scare you as you think of you and that person in a domestic setting or doing something a little bit more inappropriate, that infuriating habit becomes endearing if that person does it, a conversation between that person and someone else is like a test of one’s emotional stability as you worry about your feelings becoming unrequited.

Even when you realise that you have a snowflake’s chance in hell of your love being returned, you realise that they have you wrapped around their finger, they have but to ask for something and you would happily go out of your way just to see them smile. This is all followed by a slow sinking realisation when you are alone, you are in too deep that person is your world, there is nothing you won’t do for them, it presents you with an interesting paradox, you want nothing more than for your feelings to be returned but at the same time, the thought of revealing your feelings makes you almost faint as you can see a multitude of ways that it could go wrong.

Victoria Sabrina Ashbridge was used to that feeling, with all its upsides and downsides, she had realised her love a few months back and was now ready to confess her feelings to the one that she loved. She had made more plans than strictly necessary, wrote what she was going to say down, drafted it several times and wrote it down again before deciding to stick with the first draft, practised what she was going to say in the mirror several times while recording it and playing it back to herself for her to make notes on how well she performed, making sure that she was ready to clearly and succinctly reveal her feelings. She even went as far as to conscribe her twin sister, Violet, in to help style her hair, apparently her ‘I-combed-my-hair-just-enough-so-that-it-wouldn’t-be-all frazzled-after-washing-it’ style, needed to find a shorter name, fitted her, she was quite sure that Violet wasn’t telling the truth but she knew better than to question her sister. For her wrath was something that made angels themselves shiver in fear.

Victoria was a plain looking brunette who stood toughly around 5 ft 10, her hair was something of a chestnut colour with purple highlights at the tips, she didn’t have that good a figure, her eyes almost constantly had bags around them from all the sleep she lost as a result of her insomnia, bags which she hid with her glasses. Her eyes were an emerald green, she was often told that she looked look depressed and while that was something she was quick to correct them on, she wasn’t actually depressed, she did acknowledge that her features did make it look like she was more inclined to be brooding then smiling. Her body was chubby, but she certainly wasn’t fat, though she would acknowledge that she wasn’t fit either, her assets were actually a little big, bigger than her sister’s and bigger than most of her friends.

The one who she was in love with was a girl at her school known as London Ashely Skye, stood at roughly 5 ft 10, a ginger girl with fair, freckled skin, her long, luscious hair was a vibrant orange, her body was quite shapely and it looked like she was trying to pull off the hourglass figure and was getting damn close, her … assets were average sized. Her face was covered with freckles, with sapphire blue eyes and a kind gaze, her lips were plump and she had this wonderful smile that was almost permanently on her face.

Victoria’s plan went something like this:  
1.Meet London at the Library, tell her that it’s a study session, exams are coming up soon so it would be prudent to study. Make sure to meet in a more isolated area in the Library.  
2.Broach the subject of relationships with London. Figure out if she has a boyfriend, if she does, figure out how she managed to keep that hidden for so long.  
3.Make subtle steps to see where she stood when it came to girls loving girls. Be ready to drop the line of conversation if necessary.  
4.If she does like girls in that way, try to subtly confess my love.  
5.If she accepts try to kiss her, make sure that she’s okay with it. Hopefully she will be okay with it.

Victoria looked at her plan which she had wrote out on paper using black ink, while it was an okay plan, she could do with not waxing poetic but there was a major problem, any plan with more than 4 steps was not a plan, it was wishful thinking. She revised her plan:  
1.Arrange to meet London at the Library, tell her that it’s a study session, exams are coming up soon so it would be prudent to study. Make sure to meet in a more isolated area in the Library, try the audiobooks, invite Violet but make sure that she arrives later.  
2.Broach the subject of relationships with London. Figure out if she has a boyfriend, if she does, figure out how she managed to keep him hidden for so long, or if he actually exists.  
3.Make subtle steps to see where she stood when it came to girls loving girls. Be ready to drop the line of conversation if necessary. If she sounds disgusted that is a bad sign, be ready to deny all accusations.  
4.If she does like girls in that way, try to subtly confess my love, if she doesn’t understand or pick up on it, be ready to be more upfront with it, make use of the written confession.

The revisions were scribbled into the margin or around words using red ink, turning what was a neat looking plan into what could best be described as old forgotten arcane runes, which when spoken aloud would, probably, summon an elder god to this mortal plane. Victoria sighed to herself, this was seriously the best plan she could come up with? She decided to roll with it, she grabbed her phone and started to text London, it went something like this:

Vicky: Hey London.  
Oi.  
I know your there.  
*you’re

London: What

Vicky: Wanna meet up at the Library tomorrow?  
I know you need help with your history, maybe we could study together.

London: Fine, which part of history? Germany, the Troubles, what?

Vicky: Let’s try Germany, not saying what years though  
let’s test that general knowledge.

London: Cya tomorrow

Vicky: cya

Victoria sighed, she hadn’t even thought what part of history to study. Also, Nazi Germany what the hell was she thinking? Yeah, that’ll make for some romantic conversation, won’t it? Everyone knows that their economic policies really gets people’s motor’s running. Victoria sighed again and looked at the clock, it was about 23:45, “Not like I’m going to be able to get any sleep” she grumbled to herself, she went over to her laptop and booted up a game which was a favourite of hers, might help pass the time.


	2. A Second Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second opinion is often an important part of any process as it adds another viewpoint to a plan or any work, often shining light on it that the designer didn't think of.
> 
> The Second part of it, I haven't really drafted this all that well. I aplogise in advance, but I really do want reviews, kudos, anything, just let me know that people are reading my work and actually thinking about it.
> 
> Also thanks to my first reviewer, LiliesAndRemains, you are pretty damn awesome.

It was around about 10 in the morning and London was standing outside of Lisburn Library, waiting for her friend, yes, friend, because that was all that they would be, she was waiting to study, she reminded herself, it was most certainly NOT to stare at Victoria’s face and commit every detail to memory once again and imagine how her lips would feel on London’s and other such horrible (wonderful) things.

London herself was a dressed in something resembling casual wear, a pair of dark blue jeans, a pair of black trainers, Nikes, a white crop top and a dull red hoodie, her ginger hair was done up into a low ponytail. She brought her backpack with her, in preparation for when Victoria would inevitably start giving out notes, her backpack was a small one which was a dark bluish colour, she was sort of worried that she wouldn’t be able to fit all the notes in her bag.

London broke herself out of her musings when she saw Vicky, the light of her life. She was dressed in black Mary Janes, black tights, a bluish skirt, which was surprisingly short given Vicky’s normal choice of clothes, a white shirt under a navy-blue hoodie (the collar of the shirt poked out from under the hoodie), she was wearing her glasses, Superdry brand, which barely covered the bags under her eyes. She had her bag with her, which was a black leather satchel, (London couldn’t guess the brand, though considering Vicky’s tastes, it probably wasn’t a big brand one, she preferred cheaper clothes and bags) which, undoubtedly, contained more file block than was strictly necessary, a few pens and probably the textbooks and some teacher’s handouts as well as her own notes (Which were a summary of the textbook information and the teacher’s handouts) she looked a bit nervous and, as always, exhausted.

“Hello Vicky, did you get any sleep?” London queried, she did get worried about the amount of time Victoria had sometimes gone without sleep, knowing full well that she did suffer from insomnia and often went weeks without sleep

“No, not really.” Victoria answered, “Gone a few days without sleep now, so if I make any comments about seeing the face of God, don’t worry, that’s the sleep deprivation talking.” Victoria added, trying to add a joking tone to her comment, they both entered the library and went to the second floor, there was a few tables near the language courses section that Vicky liked so they had set up there. Then there was the fun that was Vicky getting set up for the revision. She took out a large 500-page file block (apparently bought from a nearby pound store, London was wondering what sort of hellspawn decided to make such a product), both of the textbooks (One of which was rarely, if ever, used) and a few pages of notes on the topic at hand (Victoria is very diligent and seems to have infinite free time on her hands), which appeared to be Weimar Germany, oh goody, the thing that she haven’t revised.

“Um, teacher?” London said, in a joking tone “Can I have some time to revise?”

“45 Minutes.” Vicky intoned “Then we will spending 30 minutes writing an essay, without notes.” Jesus Christ, I think she’s going to be a teacher. She pulled out her tablet and set a timer for 45 minutes “Begin.” She said as she turned on the timer. If London had to guess, she would have some past papers in her bag, she casually looked over her history notes, London had to start frantically looking through the notes, attempting to memorise facts, figures, dates, statistics, all of this information which is drier than the Sahara Desert.

About an eternity later, or more accurately an hour and fifteen minutes later, London had wrote an essay, which she was pretty sure she had murdered, essays were not her strong suit and her less than stellar grades proved it, hell, Vicky was one of the reasons she was passing. Vicky had taken her essay and had set about marking it, in red pen, Christ she really was going to be a teacher, wasn’t she? London looked at her crush, she looked oddly happy and had that sort of glint in her eye that she had when she had a plan and she was dangerous when she had a plan.

“Hey London,” Vicky prompted, barely looking up from her marking “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Where is this coming from?” London spluttered (and thought) a light blush coming to her face

“Well, I was just wondering, you always seem to be ready to spend time with me, wouldn’t you rather spend it with your boyfriend?” Vicky answered the question with a question, a frustrating habit that she had, barely looking up from her work, alright play it cool, London, don’t let her know,

“I don’t have a boyfriend” London answered, ‘because I’m a filthy dyke, because I love you even though I shouldn’t’ she added in her head, she was trying to come up with a way to add to her answer “I’ve just been careful about getting into a relationship, is all.” She added, Vicky didn’t look all that convinced but seemed to accept the answer and went back to marking. London was wondering what Vicky was planning but knew better than to ask what her plan was, so they sat there in, somewhat, comfortable silence.

“So I’ve been wondering,” Vicky began “What do you think of people with more….” She paused, seemingly searching for the right word “Unique relationships?” What was she insinuating?

“Well, I think that God created men and women to be together.” London answered, almost reflexily, “At least, that’s what my vicar says.” More accurately, its what the televangelist she watched over the internet said, her vicar was actually a very sound bloke, She was rubbing the back of her neck, “I personally think that it’s wonderful that people pursue what relationships they want.” Vicky fully raised an eyebrow at this, apparently interested by the answer she got.

“I think so too,” Vicky said, moving her hand closer to London’s, though when she realised what she was doing, she immediately retracted her hand and handed London her fully marked essay, it was at around 75% “Also, very good work, London, needs some work on the specifics but it is mostly very solid. You’re conclusion needs work and remember: while you’re writing down your opinions, you need to state it like a fact, no referring to yourself. I’ve scribbled some notes in the margins for further reading” London was more wondering why Vicky seemed to be blushing, she didn’t blush that easily

“Vic-” London began but was stopped by the girl in question.

“Questions later, now read!” Victoria commanded, dodging around a potential question, burying her nose in a textbook and pulling out a piece of paper that was stuck between the pages. There was a long bout of silence as she seemed to read from the textbook but didn’t seem to change the page and London read through the essay and trying to read Vicky’s notes that were hastily scribbled in the margins. Was Vicky asleep? She didn’t seem to be moving that much, it wasn’t a common occurrence, for her to fall asleep during the day, but it did happen. London checked on Vicky and she was actually sleeping, it was impressive how she still held that book while sleeping… She looked rather pretty and cute and rather … peaceful, like there was little on her mind that concerned her. 

London decided to nudge the cute girl awake, after being sure to remember what a sleeping Vicky looked like, while she did need her sleep, she was also needed to help with revision, she began nudging her with her left hand “Mhhh… five more minutes” 

Vicky mumbled, swatting away London’s hand, undeterred, she continued “I’m up sis, I’m up…” Vicky said, roused from her sleep and realising that it was not Violet, a slight blush came to her face

“Vicky, you know that I’m not your sister, right?” London questioned, a joking tone present in her voice. Vicky nodded “You were asleep and I don’t want to carry you back home.”

“Why not, I’m sure that you’re strong enough to bridal carry me.” Vicky replied, before the implications of what she said sunk in for her and then for London as both girls got something of a blush, with Vicky blushing pink and London blushing red. “Moving swiftly on, London…” She began again, clearing her throat, “I’ve been wondering, is there anyone you’re interested in?” She was blushing red at this. There was this look in her eyes that seemed to say ‘I know you’re interested in someone, spill it.’ London wasn’t sure why Vicky seemed to have an Irish accent in her head, but anyway, it was probably best to offer a half answer.

“Well, there is someone, she’s very pretty, a bit chubby and kind of a busybody, but she is really friendly and tires to help everybody.” London said, briefly describing the girl in front of her, a girl who was listening intently.

“Wait, you’re interested in a girl?” She said, looking very interested, London realised her mistake, Vicky would think she’s a dyke, that was the entire point of this ‘revision session’, it was because Vicky had realised what was happening and needed to confirm it, before she realised it, tears started to fall from her face. She heard the sound of Victoria sighing heavily, like she often did, before what sounded like a pack of tissues opening and steps that moved to where the seat next to London was.

The next thing she felt was the soft feeling of tissues pressing up against her face, wiping away her tears, she always cared for her. Victoria was next to her now, less than a metre away, her face was concerned but also strangely happy. She was humming something but London couldn’t guess what the tune was from. She tried speaking multiple times but her voice came out as a mess and she got shh’d by Vicky

“Victoria, promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.” London pleaded

“Bu-”

“Promise me.” London insisted

“Okay, I promise.” Victoria submitted “But I want to tell you something, I … uh, well, that is to say...” Victoria stumbled over her words, before shaking her head “Fuck it” she mumbled, she placed her left hand under London’s chin and kissed her.

London was wondering what the hell had happened, and was still happening, Victoria’s gay, she’s gay and she’s interested in her, her lips felt smooth… she’s wearing chapstick and she tasted of chocolate and smelt of ink, focus London, something has to be wrong, she has said that she hadn’t slept in three days, that must be the problem, that was obviously the problem, it was just her sleep deprivation causing this, VIcky was probably seeing a handsome man or something. London pushed her friend off her. Ignoring how both of them were blushing beet red and how some people were looking at them. A part of London wanted Vicky to continue kissing her, but the more responsible part of her was less inclined to do so, she needed to make sure that Vicky didn’t do anything she would regret.

“Vicky, you’re not yourself, you’re sleep deprived.” London said firmly, her resolve faltered when she saw the tears well up in Vicky’s eyes, she stood up, calmly packing up her things, through her hands were shaking all the way and halfway through, she started crying, her tears falling onto the paper and the books.

“You’re right London, I should get some sleep.” Victoria sobbed, trying to remain composed “I apologize for kissing you.” She did a 90 degree turn and made her way out of the library. Jesus Christ, London felt horrible, on one hand, she anxious because Victoria might reveal her secret to the school, but on the other hand, she liked Victoria and she hated being responsible for sadness, even when she believed that she was in the right. It was, what drunk Victoria would refer to as, ‘A colossal fuck-up’, she got up and went after Victoria, she just had to get this right or she might lose the light of her life...


	3. A Different Persepective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking at things from a different angle helps shed light on situtations. It makes hard puzzles easy, complicated problems simple, doesn't help with love though.
> 
>  
> 
> This fic has gotten out of hand, please send help. I need to draft this but I won't.

London was crying ugly, fat tears, she was sobbing and Victoria was responsible for it, well there have been better responses, and this, is certainly not one of them, it didn’t look like she was going to stop any time soon either. This was definitely not how Victoria had planned things to go, but she did have an idea, she sighed and got out of her chair. Reaching into one of her pockets, she pulled out a packet of tissues. She pulled out the chair and opened the packet, immediately reaching for one and she softly placed them on London’s face to dry her tears, all while humming a favoured song of her’s ‘bridge over troubled waters’ even though the song was, apparently, about suicide it was also, one could argue, about supporting people and the last verse would be very applicable in this situation. She sighed to herself again, this was going to take a while.

Eventually, London’s tears had subsided and she could, probably, speak clearly

“Victoria, promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.” London pleaded

“Bu-”

“Promise me.” London insisted

“Okay, I promise.” Victoria submitted. She figured she’d toss London a bone, it’d calm her down while Victoria tried to figure out where she was on the plan, about step four, we know she’s gay, we know she doesn’t have a boyfriend, and she wasn’t all that sure who the girl London liked was, but Victoria was determined to win over London.

Okay, so on step four of the plan, then this leads to… she cleared her throat and began “But I’ve wanted to tell you something” don’t forget the thing, don’t forget the thing , don't forget the “I … uh, well, that is to say...” fuck, she was stumbling over her words like some idiot, or someone who was flustered, that sounds pretty accurate now that she thinks about it. She shook her head as she realised that she probably wouldn’t be able to remember her words. Well, “Fuck it.” She mumbled, as she moved her face closer to London’s, actions speak louder than words after all.

Blushing redder than blood, she pushed her lips onto London’s, the girl wasn’t wearing Chapstick like she usually did, she noted, she was sure that she wasn’t that good a kisser but it’s not like she’s had practise, oddly enough, she disregarded all that and closed her eyes and tasted London's lips, which tasted of cherry or something sweet, she wasn't exactly a connoisseur of flavour. She wished that this moment would never end. That was all before it did, of course, she was pushed off by a beet red London, she noted, to her embarrassment that some people were looking at them, ignore them Vicky, they were just jealous.

London looked Victoria dead in the eyes and opened her mouth “Vicky, you’re not yourself, you’re sleep deprived.” She intoned, her voice firm and her resolve faltering. Victoria felt tears welling up in her eyes, no matter how little she wanted to cry she knew that it was going to happen whether she liked it or not. She made movements towards packing her books, the past papers, the notes and the file block, her hands were shaking like … she couldn’t really think of a good simile. About halfway through packing up, her tears started flowing freely, she wasn’t all that pleased at her own crying, you deserve this for shoving your feelings onto her.

“You’re right London.” She began, her voice was shaking “I should get some sleep” she picked up her packed bag and made her way out of the library. “You’ve fucked up Vicky.” She mumbled to herself, in a tone so venomous, it would impress a king cobra “You couldn’t keep your feelings off her could you?” she asked herself as she entered the bathroom, there wasn’t anyone else there, to her knowledge. She looked at herself in the mirror like she expected the reflection to say something back, not like it would though, it was her own reflection, it’s not like it talks.

The girl in the glass glared at her with a very disapproving look. Her eyes and cheeks were red, as was the rest of her face, she noted, tears were streaming down her face. “Vicky, you could’ve have just told her like a normal person, it’s not a third-rate romance webfic, you don’t just kiss someone and expect good things to happen.” She ranted at herself, slightly surprised at how exact her ranting was. 

The girl in the glass, obviously didn’t answer, or was Vicky supposed to answer the question that the girl in the glass asked? Ah, that was probably a question she could think about on her way home, anything that got her mind off of London. “I should probably just go home.” She said to herself as she wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her lucky hoodie.

It was a shoddy day in the City of Lisburn, the rain was falling heavily and the sky was dark, in other words, perfect ambient weather for someone like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: The files for this fic on my laptop are all called "Not this shit again" except with chapters attached and in the case if the "revamped" first chapter, its a 2.0.


End file.
